Work Text:
It’s just one of their shows — this time it’s a relatively big venue, the crowd chants the songs along with Tyler, and they’re holding up different carton signs. Josh bangs his drums furiously, drenched in sweat and overwhelmed with uncontrollable adrenaline; he bounces on his seat, headbanging and pouring his heart out as he plays. Josh doesn’t even know all the lyrics of their own songs yet, he just recognizes them by the pattern of the drumbeat.
This doesn’t seem suspicious — the excitement mixed with blood courses through his veins, but there’s also some certain tension tingling in Josh’s lower stomach, his black skinny jeans seem to be rather uncomfortable. Josh knows this feeling from waking up next to Tyler in the van — he used to solve his problems in the restrooms where he’s sure Tyler can’t spot him.
Josh is happy that he doesn’t have to leave his drumset and communicate with the audience, because the bulge in his jeans is already way too conspicuous. But luckily, the kids in the pit don’t see this, they don’t know that Tyler is the reason of Josh’s nervous fidgeting.
He’s achingly hard.
Josh thinks he can stand it.
They continue the show.
In between the songs, Josh holds his breath until his lungs begin to send warnings to his brain. He exhales through his mouth, sliding his hand between his spread legs and rubbing his throbbing cock through his jeans.
He suddenly begins to fantasize about Tyler’s hand on his groin and is forced to choke back a groan.
He’s sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate him getting off during the show so he retracts his hand and clutches his drumsticks in his sweaty palms again. But probably, Tyler has an ability to sneak into Josh’s thoughts — Tyler’s hips move seductively as he marches across the stage and stops right in front of Josh’s drums, bending forward a little, so Josh can appraise his friend’s white baggy pants with the battered belt. And his ass, of course.
“Then I feel my soul start leaving, like an old man’s hair receding; I’m pleading, ‘Please, oh please!” Tyler slams to his knees and reaches his a little shaking hand to the audience, getting a short touch from the girl in the front row.
Josh nearly punches the air instead of the cymbal, but come on — he’s a professional, he can’t let Tyler Joseph’s butt draw his attention when he’s being so important for the band.
He works on keeping the beat.
“Take this weapon, forged in darkness; some see a pen, I see harpoon!” Tyler cries out hysterically.
And then something happens.
Josh feels like he might have a seizure, arching his back and at the same time trying miserably to lock his knees together to prevent himself from coming in his jeans while he’s onstage, but the hot and wet stickiness already pools in his boxers. The embarrassment sticks the needles under Josh’s skin as he blindly hits the drums through the intensive orgasm, losing himself in the vortex of lights and sounds.
Tyler is now just going crazy hitting the keys of the piano — Josh is about to let out a sigh of relief. Tyler doesn’t know.
“Metaphorically, I’m a whore, and that’s denial number four!”
It’s like Tyler finally sets himself free from his invisible fetters, jerking his head and rolling his eyes and magically appearing in front of Josh again.
Tyler doesn’t look like a whore, Josh thinks absently.
Tyler finishes the song with his voice cracking.
Josh throws the sweat-soaked towel over his lap when Tyler brings the mic to his glossy lips-
“Stay alive, it’s worth it!”
‘Yes,’ Josh thinks. ‘Definitely.’
The sweat trickling down his back and stomach doesn’t make the situation less degrading. Finishing the last few songs gives him vertigo.
Josh avoids looking at Tyler till the end of the show.
Tyler doesn’t have to know.
When they’re done with the bows, Josh ignores Tyler’s lopsided smile as they go to the dressing room, where Josh just snatches his backpack and sprints to the nearest restroom.
“Josh, what hap-” is all what Josh hears as he dodges Tyler’s arm and runs away from his best friend.
***
Mark calls them boyfriends.
Just because they’re sharing the lumpy mattress in the back of the van.
Tyler sleeps with his limp hand thrown over Josh’s torso. Tyler’s lips are a bit parted, he’s drooling onto Josh’s chest, and Josh debates whether it’s gross or not.
***
They’re playing a show in Nashville, and Josh is now prepared for literally everything. Well, he thinks so. He’s really about to drop his drumsticks when Tyler leaps over the monitor speaker and rushes towards the drumset.
And Josh notices the outlines of a hard-on in Tyler’s pants.
Continuing the show is a struggle since Josh knows Tyler’s dirty secret, and he’s not sure if the fans can’t see it as well. Though, Tyler doesn’t act like he’s embarrassed by any of this, but maybe he just twitches and dances more than usual to conceal it. Well, Josh has to synchronize — he hits his drums harder, not thinking of the curve of Tyler’s hips looming right in front of him. It’s better than porn, Josh guesses.
It’s just a part of the show, really.
Josh’s drumstick cracks so he’s forced to stop for a second to pick up another one.
“I try desperately to run through the sand as I hold the water in the palm of my hand,” Tyler looks down at his hand dazedly. It seems like he’s disappointed to find his palm empty.
And this is just a part of the show, too.
When they finish the set and enter the dressing room, Tyler promptly slams the door shut, locking it; he just begins to delve in his bag frantically, while Josh tries to process what’s going on. A brief surmise flickers in his brain as Tyler comes to him close enough and dumps the contents of his bag right on the floor, fishing a pair of clean boxers out of the pile of his shabby belongings.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Tyler warns, hastily unzipping his pants and wiggling out of them, nose wrinkled.
“Sure, don’t worry, dude,” Josh stutters out. “This happens.”
Tyler’s shirt is not long enough to cover the wet spot and the milky-colored stains on the front of his grey briefs.
This leaves Josh aroused.
Josh stumbles back to the door, hoping he can just sink through the hard wood and re-emerge in another dimension. But Josh’s legs are still too heavy to move them, so he just stands here and pretends he doesn’t stare at Tyler while he changes his soiled underwear.
***
They barely talk all the next week.
Sharing the hotel room with Tyler becomes the ordeal. The other night Josh wakes up thirsty and just registers Tyler sprawled on top of the covers on his bed, with his face pressed firmly into the pillow and with his right hand down his boxers.
This petrifies Josh, his mouth and throat burning as if he swallowed a handful of dust.
He has no idea why his mind memorizes Tyler’s uneven exhales and keeps re-playing this scene in his head while he’s getting off during the morning shower.
***
‘I’m doomed,’ Josh thinks as he steps into the blindingly-dark backstage hallway.
He’s not in the mood to talk to Mark or Tyler or anyone, he just wants to take a quick shower and maybe jerk off (walking off the stage with a boner becomes a routine) and pass out in the back of the van. Josh’s muscles ache from drumming.
And he definitely doesn’t expect to feel Tyler’s hand patting his shoulder.
“Come on, Josh,” Tyler coos, brushing his lips over the small vein straining on Josh’s sweaty neck.
“What are you doing?” Josh resents as Tyler pushes him into the tight space of the dressing room they’re still sharing.
The lock clicks.
They trip over their bags on the floor, and Josh heads towards the rickety sofa, but feels himself being shoved sideways.
“What the f-” Josh starts, but Tyler’s weight doesn’t let him scoot away, his back is now pressed against the rough surface of the wall. Tyler’s sweaty t-shirt clings to Josh’s black one with a geometric pattern on the front.
“You’re my best friend, and I wanna make you feel good,” Tyler replies, swaying a little and grinding his hips against Josh’s in a fast clumsy motion.
Josh isn’t sure why his knees are trembling treacherously, but he’s sure that Tyler enjoys the process of rocking his hips and rubbing against Josh’s crotch; he even tries to throw his leg over Josh’s waist, blocking his moves.
They’re standing so close it might cause an electric discharge.
Josh is about to laugh it off and turn his head to avoid the contact with Tyler’s pouty lips, which probably still taste like RedBull and tacos.
“What if somebody hears us?” Josh barely transforms his rapid gasps into words, the furious redness heats up his cheeks as Tyler tugs at his belt.
“What if we don’t care?” Tyler murmurs and seals Josh’s too big mouth with a desperate kiss which sucks the air out of Josh’s lungs. When Tyler pulls away, Josh doesn’t feel like breathing anytime soon, anxiety spiking up his chest. “I know you want me,” Tyler whispers before biting Josh’s earlobe, decorated with the stainless steel gauge.
Josh can’t deny, his confidence dissipates like a small puff of cold air in the stuffy room. And then, there are Tyler’s fingers in his hair, tangling in his brown curls, and all what Josh is able to think about is Tyler’s groin pressed directly to Josh’s fully hard cock. Tyler is wriggling and grinding against him with the new vigor.
“I know that you know that I want you,” Josh groans out, placing his hand on the back of Tyler’s neck and urging him to get back to making out. Tyler doesn’t complain though, huffing out an elusive whimper and thrusting his knee between Josh’s thighs.
Josh is still pretty nervous about the perspective of being caught, but these thoughts don’t seem so perturbing anymore, because Tyler’s palm is rubbing over the front of Josh’s maroon jeans, teasing him, no — mocking him.
“Tyler, fuck,” Josh moans when it gets too much. He doesn’t swear too often, but he’s incredibly close to spilling in his pants again.
Tyler’s hard-on is prodding against Josh’s thigh, so Josh carefully reaches his hands to unbutton Tyler’s grey jeans to ease some of the pressure. Tyler’s body tenses up as he undoes Josh’s belt and unzips his pants, rolling them down to Josh’s knees.
“Do you still want me to?..” Tyler asks with the sly grin.
“Stop teasing and get me off already,” Josh chokes out.
Josh keeps groping Tyler’s hips and ass as Tyler licks his palm, his fingers hook the elastic waistband of Josh’s boxers, already soaked with precome. With Tyler’s hand down his pants, Josh forgets about holding Tyler’s a bit pudgy hips and chews on his knuckles to strangle his awkwardly loud groan as Tyler gives a light squeeze to his painfully hard cock and twitches his wrist a little to adjust it in his hand.
Tyler’s eyes are gleaming in the dim light drizzling from the ceiling; Josh can swear he’s never seen anything as attractive as his bandmate right now.
It seems that Tyler just intends to make him scream and plead as he begins to pump him in a steady rhythm, fingers wrapped around the base of Josh’s leaking cock. Josh feels like coming just after the couple firm strokes and bucks his hips forward, but Tyler shushes him, instantly slowing down. Letting Tyler control his climax is a funny mistake, Josh realizes.
Tyler’s palm is warm and sweaty and slick with Josh’s precome, sliding easily up and down Josh’s erection while Josh closes his eyes tightly and throws his head back, hitting the wall by accident.
He’s sure he hears Tyler giggle.
“You’re doing so well, Josh.”
“You’re not bad yourself,” Josh hisses, suddenly feeling /a lot/ lightheaded from the unresolved tension.
The wall behind his back is his only support as Tyler’s hand works on his cock in his damp boxers. This time, Josh doesn’t have a second to interrupt his moan as Tyler changes the tempo abruptly, and Josh finds himself grabbing his friend’s shoulders as the long-awaited orgasm washes over him like a tidal wave.
Their stained clothes are such a mess as Josh comes abundantly all over Tyler’s fingers, vision in a blur and knees buckling. His short fingernails scratch Tyler’s back through the red fabric of his t-shirt as Josh presses his mouth to the soft spot under Tyler’s jaw and sucks the smooth skin there, earning a restrained groan in response.
“Never thought you were this experienced,” Josh mutters, lowering his hands to give a light slap on Tyler’s ass and cut off the remaining distance between them.
“Josh, um…” Tyler trails off as Josh tugs his already unbuttoned jeans down his thighs. “Honestly, I’ve never done this before. I mean, with somebody else.”
Tyler’s still sporting a boner, and of course, Josh can’t just leave him this unsatisfied.
“That’s okay, Ty, me too,” Josh whispers into his ear. Tyler’s hand is all sticky as Josh touches it. “That’s okay,” he repeats, pulling Tyler’s cock out of his briefs and accepting it’s a bit longer and thinner than his own.
Tyler quickly looks down and furrows his eyebrows.
Josh doesn’t want to get his friend confused, so he just kisses him gingerly to prevent him from saying whatever silly thing he is definitely going to say. Tyler just melts in his arms, slumping forward as Josh tugs at his cock slowly, smearing the sweat, precome from the tip and his own come down Tyler’s length, rewarded by the quiet moans slipping off Tyler’s reddened lips. Tyler’s sharp Adam’s apple’s bobbing with every move of Josh’s hand.
Josh doesn’t even tease him for so long, he just likes the way Tyler’s wheezy breathing goes all ragged and unsteady as he nears the edge, and then he just rolls his eyes in the back of his head and fills Josh’s clenched fist with the sticky fluid, some whitish drops splatter on Josh’s bare abdomen and on Tyler’s jeans.
“This was just… Just… Oh,” Tyler slurs as he presses his palms to the wall on either side of Josh’s head to hold himself upright and looks straight into Josh’s eyes.
“No problem,” Josh grins.
Tyler’s glance is still a little hazy, pupils dilated; his softening cock is still trapped in Josh’s clammy palm. Josh gently tucks it back into Tyler’s underwear before reaching to yank his own jeans back up.
He’s really about to lean in and suck a bruise on Tyler’s collarbone to celebrate the beginning of their relationship, but somebody begins to bang at the door with the obvious intention to break into the dressing room, startling both Josh and Tyler.
The latch doesn’t look like it can take these kicks without any consequences.
“Dudes, hurry up!”
It’s just Mark, Josh figures out, getting ready to catch his vibrating heart jumping across the floor and put it back to his empty ribcage.
Mark bangs again.
“Are you gonna build a family nest there?”
Well, Michael is there as well.
“Wait a minute!” Josh yells back as he wipes his hand on the small white towel and throws it to Tyler so he can use it to clean himself up.
Josh is sure he has the drying evidences all over his t-shirt and jeans.
“Michael, I told you they’re fucking in there,” Mark’s voice from behind the door sounds approvingly. Josh just facepalms at this.
“I bet you’re right,” Michael immediately agrees with Mark.
Josh facepalms once again.